


Bittersweet Surrender

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-17
Updated: 2008-11-17
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dean's greatest challenge lies in saving Sam from himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Once again, many thanks to the lovely and talented SylvanWitch for another awesome beta.
> 
> The title, which came to me after the fic was posted, is taken from _Bittersweet_ by Big Head Todd and the Monsters. I liked it better than the working title I originally gave it and I apologize for any confusion this may cause people who read it under the name _Brothers and Other Strangers_.

Title: Bittersweet Surrender

Author: jdax

Rating: NC – 17 

Summary: Dean’s greatest challenge lies in saving Sam from himself.

Spoilers: Season 4

 

***

 

By the time Sam had nestled three fingers deep inside his brother’s body, the pale, late afternoon light falling across the bedroom floor was turning to grey. Clouds were gathering, shrouding the flush of arousal on Dean’s face, cooling the sweat. Thunder rolled somewhere in the distance and wind rattled the window next to the bed as Dean dug his heels into the mattress, groaning deeply.

 

Dean closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the room come to him in their own time: the bed squeaking softly under his hips as he thrust forward to meet his brother’s questing fingers; a ragged, shuddering breath followed every few moments by a muttered curse; the rain, pattering lethargically against the window now, drawing them both into the false luxury of procrastination.

 

A chill settled on them. He shivered and Sam withdrew, leaving Dean yet clenching those phantom digits. Sam hovered between his brother’s legs, blanket pulled up over his shoulders, fists clenched around the edge as if he were bearing a great weight. Dean squinted at him in the fading light, thought for a second he looked like the cover of a book he’d once seen his brother reading.

 

Somewhere in the distance, one of Bobby’s dogs barked.

 

Much as he wanted to, Dean didn’t reach for Sam. Nothing moved for a long while, then Sam lay down on top of his brother, pressing his lips into the fine, warm curve of the older man’s neck. Even then, when Dean wanted to cry out with the sheer joy of having him there, he lay almost still, only lightly pressing his fingers into Sam’s hips as they slowly began to grind against each other.

 

Dean threw his head back, exposing more flesh to his brother’s surprisingly skilled tongue, but Sam’s slow, tentative seduction was soon abandoned as he cried out softly against Dean’s ear after each upward roll of Dean’s hips. 

 

“So good,” he whispered fiercely. 

 

Even as Dean rolled them both over and slid between his brother’s legs, taking Sam’s leaking cock between his lips, he knew the evidence of what they were becoming would linger here long after the come dried on the sheets.

 

One way or another, Bobby would know. 

 

Sam gently cupped Dean’s head then, maybe to commiserate. 

 

Dean swallowed him down, sucking hard, bringing him ever closer to the brink of oblivion, then snatching him back just as he fell over the edge. The time was coming, Dean knew, when he wouldn’t be able to catch him anymore.

 

A low, mournful howl sounded outside in the gathering darkness as Dean pulled off, rolled over on his belly, offered himself up. Dean steadied himself, focused on the sound of each breath, each touch. Somewhere in the shadows above him, his brother’s voice said, “I won’t hurt you.” 

 

A late promise.

 

For reasons Dean didn’t want to think about, he pictured Sam’s eyes just then, dark and pitiless or brightly blinding -- vast, empty windows into the eternal seasons of Hell. “No-” he whispered, turning his face to the pillow as Sam sank into him. His brother was heavy as he draped himself over Dean’s back, wrapping his body protectively, even penitently, around the older man in a way that could pass for atonement.

 

They moved slowly, so slowly at first, and Dean marveled at how well their bodies fit together. Rain was pounding on the roof, on the window, muffling the small grunts of discomfort that escaped between clenched teeth as his brother filled him. 

 

“Stay with me,” Sam whispered against his ear. He stroked in and out faster now as Dean moaned, thrusting back. He rose up a little, clutching the pillow to his chest, driving himself back against his brother. His face was flushed, sweating, as Sam fucked him hard, the headboard banging rhythmically against the faded yellow wallpaper, undoubtedly leaving marks they’d be hard-pressed to explain, should Bobby ever notice. As they both knew, not much got by the old man.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean muttered, as a large, warm, calloused hand closed around his swollen, aching cock. He could feel Sam’s smirk against his cheek but didn’t care to defend his dignity as he shamelessly fucked himself inside that firm grip. A wet thumb swiped the head once, twice, then Dean was spilling over his brother’s fingers, making no effort at all anymore to stifle his groans of pleasure. Sam gentled him through it until the last spasm had passed. After, Dean laid there, knees still drawn up under him, feeling now every inch of Sam’s penetration. His awareness was keen, precise, as he prayed silently for Sam’s release.

 

The young man rose up and away, taking Dean’s hips in a firm grip, groaning loudly as he neared what had to be his own climax. Just about the time Dean felt warm, wet vindication from Sam, the unmistakable sound of the Camaro suddenly penetrated the fog of euphoria they’d shrouded themselves in. Headlights pierced the blackness through the blinds, casting into sharp relief exactly what they’d done. Dean winced as he rolled over, sat up, reached for his jeans.

 

“Stay,” Sam said, pulling the blanket back and pushing him gently to the bed. “I’ll handle Bobby.”

 

Dean frowned. He wasn’t ready for them to be _handling_ Bobby. He was in no shape to argue, though, as he rolled back to his belly and let Sam pull the blanket up over his hips. A hand lingered on the small of his back.

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Dean. Trust me.” He heard the soft sound of a zipper, then the door closed, plunging Dean into darkness. He lay there for a long time, listening to the echo of pain. He hurt, ached deeply in ways and for things he couldn’t understand.

 

***

 

He half-woke hours later, in the dead of the night, to the mattress dipping next to him. He tensed, instinctively reaching for his knife, until he felt a familiar hand on his back.

 

“It’s Sam.”

 

In his sleep-like state - where denial and defense mechanisms held no sway, where memories and nightmares were one and the same - that declaration was something less than comforting.

 

He let Sam come to him as he turned on his side, allowing the young man to fit his long, lean body against him. He whispered the same promises he’d been making for years, but Dean held onto them, sure that _this_ time, he finally meant it. 

 

This time, he _had_ to mean it.

 

_“Find a way to stop him, Dean, or we will.”_

 

Sighing deeply, he let Castiel’s words fall away into the darkness as he gently pushed Sam onto his back and crawled on top again.

 

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.


End file.
